Fresh faced and let loose from an all boys school, you’ve been set free from your parents for the first time. You’re unleashed into this new university world full of student girls feeling like a hormonal teen dropped into the Playboy mansion. Just two days earlier you were convinced you’d be with your girlfriend forever but now you’re suffering from a strong dose of NGS (New Girl Syndrome) and can barely picture your GFs face without consulting the passport photo in your wallet first.
You meet loads of new people in your halls and are so focused on getting your own name right, you forget to listen to their name. Out of the fifty something people you’ve exchanged names with, you can only remember the name of the guy who seemed the ‘most normal’ out of this weird mix of people…. and that blonde girl!
The sterotypes you’d heard about seem more apparent than ever…
- The dreadlocked hippies in their clown pants, smoking weed, while juggling….on a unicycle
- The chavs that must have slipped through the net (probably through clearing) clad in adidas saying ‘ya get me’ at the end of every sentence while banging out dubstep through their DRE BEATS headphones
- The RAHs looking like they've stepped out of a Jack Wills commercial saying ridiculous things like ‘Hashtag Yum’ over dinner
- The brainboxes who are scared to make eye contact and look like they’ve arrived in fancy dress as Will from The Inbetweeners
- The sports keenos in football/rugby shirts shouting loudly about how they signed for City before they got injured
- The fun boys in low cut vests who use Geordie Shore as their style bible
After trying to decide where you fit in, you quickly realise this doesn't matter in the first week, as everyone is friendly, excited at their new found freedom and up for a good time! Within a matter of hours (and with the help of Glenns finest vodka, a funnel, and the newly learned ‘Fuzzy Duck’) everyone is screaming and shouting like they’ve been best friends for years. The pre-lash quickly escalates as glasses get broken, the girl that just an hour ago said she had a boyfriend is now flashing her underwear and the kid that looks more pre-pubescent than Justin Bieber is thowing up in the nearest bin.
The rest of the night becomes a bit of blur and consists of heading to the heaving city centre, queuing forever to get in the club, fighting to get served at the bar, bumpin’ & grindin' on the dancefloor more than R Kelly and a filthy kebab. More relationships come to an end on that 1st night than in a whole series of Hollyoaks.
The next thing you remember is waking up the following day at 2pm butt-ass naked and hanging half way off your bed next to a sink full of sick and kebab chunklets with missing memories (and wallet).
PANIC SETS IN
Not only have you missed the Fresher’s Fair, you’ve also missed your departmental intro on the very first day! Surely you’ve ruined everything on Day 1? You’re going to be expelled from the uni for being the first person in history to ever miss their departmental intro! On top of that, your parents are going to kill you!
However to your complete amazement, the punishment was far more lenient than you’d expected. IN FACT, the punishment was completely non-existent – There wasn’t any acknowledgement of your misdemeanours, not even the slightest mention… and best of all, your parents will never know.
This was incredible; not only had you had one of the best nights of your life BUT there were no repercussions of your irresponsible actions.
After heading down to the common room, you piece together the stories of the previous nights adventures with the help of your pale-faced counterparts, who it turns out, also missed their intro lectures… The basic context of the intellectual dialogue between these higher education participants consisted of chundering, tashing on, passing out, fighting and nakedness. The conclusion reached on this verbal thesis from these high-calibre undergraduates was as follows: The night was f*&^ing awesome and ergo they would be doing exactly the same thing again tonight!
And so the vicious circle of the slacker begins…
As the end of the 1st term rapidly approaches, while you haven’t learned very much from your degree which you’ve committed to spending £1000s on, you have learned a few other things:-
- You’re a FOMO sufferer. It’s impossible for you to stay in and work knowing that there are others going out.
- Your will power is weaker than a crackhead in Columbia.
- You’re a natural born Strawpedo champion and can open your gullet wider than most ‘erotic film stars’
- You and all your friends will become so awesome at the drinking game ‘21s’ that you will flawlessly complete a full round despite the fact that every number has been replaced by a different animal noise
- If there was a degree in COD, FIFA or Mario Kart then without a doubt, you'd get a 1st class degree with honours
Unfortunately none of these newly-learned gems are on your syllabus and won’t help you a jot when it comes to getting a good degree and a decent job afterwards. The fact that your lecture attendance record is lower than last night’s Jagemeister bottle isn’t a problem though - You’re in your first year which ‘doesn’t count’ and all that job malarchy is years away. You’re here for a good time, not a long time. Plus, it’ll all be alright! Won’t it? Yeh, you’ll buck your ideas up when it counts and have nothing to worry about at all? Or do you?
Turns out you were completely wrong and all your skipping lectures is going to catch up with you in a big way. 1st year or not, there are still core modules you need to pass.
Stay tuned for part 2 where the continued slacker lifestyle leads to big regrets when coursework, tests and exams roll around...